


wouldn't dare to call it fate

by nightswatch



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 07:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3373328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac and Combeferre want to take Enjolras out on a double date with a guy that Bahorel met at fencing class. But then there's also the guy at the library who constantly gets on Enjolras' nerves, but is annoyingly cute at the same time. (And they're totally not the same person.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	wouldn't dare to call it fate

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [maraudeuselunaire](http://maraudeuselunaire.tumblr.com/)'s prompt that I got on my [writing blog](http://musains.tumblr.com/).

Enjolras wasn’t a particularly patient person. He was very well aware of that. He’d been doing his very best to work on it, although sometimes it really wasn’t so easy. _Right now_ it wasn’t easy. Especially because it was late and Enjolras hadn’t eaten in a much too long time and he needed coffee, but he also wanted to finish his paper and he was still two and a half pages away from that.

He’d been holed up at the library for the better part of the day and things had been going smoothly so far. Enjolras had found all the books he needed for his paper and he’d found a nice spot in a quiet corner. Here he’d spent most of his day, ignoring everything and everyone around him. It had worked rather well. At least until twenty minutes ago. Then _he_ had shown up.

Enjolras didn’t know the guy’s name. Really, he didn’t know a thing about him. He just kept seeing him at the library. That on its own wouldn’t be much of a problem. Actually he was rather nice to look at. Objectively speaking. The real problem was that Enjolras also kept _hearing_ him.

Sometimes he’d walk past Enjolras, whistling or humming quietly as he flicked through books, and under different circumstances Enjolras might have asked him to stop because there were people who came here to study and do their work _in silence_ , but Enjolras also found it quite endearing somehow, so he only shot him dark looks every time he walked past him.

Now the guy was sitting at the table next to Enjolras’ with a stack of books and his laptop and he kept sighing and tapping his pencil on his notepad. And it was incredibly annoying.

Two hours earlier Enjolras probably wouldn’t even have noticed, as immersed in his work as he’d been, but now he was stuck and his patience was dwindling rapidly. He just wanted to finish this and go home, so he wouldn’t have to listen to this guy’s pencil-tapping any longer.

Enjolras turned his head to glare in the general direction of where he was sitting, belatedly realizing that the guy was looking right at him. The guy raised his eyebrows in question, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he was daring Enjolras to complain.

Rolling his eyes, Enjolras turned back to the book he’d been leafing through.

The pencil-tapping continued, only now it wasn’t a steady rhythm anymore, which made it a thousand times more annoying. Now it was Enjolras’ turn to let out a weary sigh. He looked up again, finding the pencil-tapper looking right back at him. He smiled, apparently not in the slightest bit embarrassed that he’d been caught staring.

Enjolras almost wanted to smile back at him, but then remembered that he was actually annoyed about that guy’s behavior so he only narrowed his eyes and stacked up all his books next to him so he couldn’t see him anymore. Enjolras heard a quiet snort on his right. He chose to ignore it.

At least it was quiet now. Enjolras resisted the urge to check if the guy was even still there. He’d made it as far as the conclusion when someone started to hum _Dancing Queen_ on the other side of his wall of books. Enjolras leaned back and _of course_ it was the exact same guy.

Enjolras slammed his book shut, glowered at him one more time and then went to return the book to where he’d got them from. When he returned to his table, the guy was leaning against it, grinning at him.

“Can I help you?” Enjolras asked warily.

The guy tugged his fingers through his dark curls, almost looking like he was nervous. “I hope you’re not leaving because of me,” he said and smiled apologetically. “I sometimes do stuff without even realizing it.”

“You don’t realize that you start humming ABBA songs, it just happens?”

The guy’s grin grew about ten sizes bigger. “What can I say, the song just reminded me of you.”

Enjolras opened his mouth to ask him what the hell that was supposed to mean, but then closed it again because he realized that talking to this guy for much longer would probably give him an aneurism. He gathered his belongings and cleared his throat. “It was a pleasure talking to you.”

“Aw, come on, I’m sorry about the humming, okay?”

“I’m not leaving because of you,” Enjolras said flatly. “I was nearly done if you must know.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” He winked at him. “So, how would you feel about giving me your number?”

Enjolras thought he’d misheard for a second.

“Your phone number,” the guy went on, “so I can text you. Or call you. You look like someone who prefers calling people, you know. Anyway, if I had your number I could invite you for dinner or maybe just coffee for starters.”

“No, thank you,” Enjolras said lowly. It was his standard response, but it hadn’t come quite as quickly as usual.

“Let me know if you change your mind,” the guy said. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Enjolras said, an entirely involuntary smile tugging at his lips. When he walked off, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at himself for once.

* * *

“Enjolras, I have great news,” Courfeyrac greeted him when Enjolras came walking into their living room half an hour later.

“Did you and Combeferre finally decide not to make out in the kitchen anymore?” Enjolras asked. Having to wrestle past the two of them to get to the coffeemaker didn’t exactly brighten his mornings.

“We’re still working on that,” Courfeyrac said and patted the empty space next to him. “Come on, sit down.”

Enjolras did, but reluctantly. “Where’s Combeferre?”

“He’s at Joly’s,” Courfeyrac said. “They’re studying. Or maybe they’re blowing up Joly’s kitchen. Who knows.” He laughed. “Anyway, _I have great news_. I was talking to Bahorel earlier and he introduced me to this guy he met at the gym. He teaches fencing lessons and he’s smart and funny and, guess what, he’s also single.”

“No,” Enjolras said. He knew where this was going. “Absolutely not.”

“Look, we wouldn’t be setting you up on a blind date with him,” Courfeyrac said and patted him on the back. “Believe me, we’ve learned from our mistakes. Instead we could go out on a double date, Combeferre and me, and you and Grantaire. What do you think?”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras echoed. “That’s the guy you’re trying to set me up with?”

Courfeyrac nodded. “Did I mention that he has tattoos?”

“You didn’t,” Enjolras said. “But I’m still saying no.”

“Why?” Courfeyrac asked and stuck out his bottom lip. “I bet we’d have a really good time together. We could go have dinner together. You know, at a casual place. Like the Musain. On Saturday. At seven. I might have already told him that you’re coming.”

Enjolras groaned. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I love you,” Courfeyrac said, “and I want you to be happy and I know you’re not a huge fan of dating, but this Grantaire dude is actually really nice. And he has very nice arms. With tattoos on them.”

“Courfeyrac,” Enjolras only said. This was an awful idea. Just like the last five blind dates Courfeyrac had set him up on had been an awful idea.

“Well, if you really don’t want to go…” Courfeyrac said slowly. He let out a wistful sigh. “But we haven’t had dinner at the Musain in such a long time. I miss their chicken wraps. I miss their fries. And seriously, what’s the worst thing that could happen? You might not like him. Well, at least you had some great fries.”

“You’re going to pay for my fries,” Enjolras said lowly.

“I’ll even pick your outfit.” Courfeyrac gave him a kiss. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

* * *

Enjolras was already starting to regret it before they even left their apartment. Courfeyrac and Combeferre were obviously very much in the mood for a date. They were standing out in the hallway, doing something that sounded very much like passionate kissing, exchanging mumbled _I love you_ s every now and again.

Even though Courfeyrac had kept pointing out that this whole thing was going to be really casual, it was still a date. Enjolras was going out on a date with a guy he didn’t even know and it made him more nervous than he cared to admit. Maybe he should have given library guy his number after all. At least then he’d know who he’d be meeting with tonight. He’d know what he was in for.

Enjolras sighed and put his hair into a bun – he’d only barely managed to talk Courfeyrac out of braiding it for him earlier – and pulled on his favorite coat and his oldest pair of Converse. Courfeyrac had picked an entirely different outfit for him. Enjolras had kept the jeans, but he’d exchanged the button-down shirt for a knitted sweater.

Courfeyrac himself was wearing a dotted bowtie, which apparently was the epitome of casual in Courfeyrac’s world. At least Combeferre was also wearing one of his old sweater vests and nothing too fancy. They’d obviously managed to let go of one another, both of them smiling when Enjolras told them that he was ready to leave.

“I really hope you like him,” Courfeyrac said as they were approaching the Musain. “Because then the four of us can go out on double dates every now and then. I mean, we could obviously go out with Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta, but I think that’d just be a couple of hours of listening to Combeferre and Joly being nerdy.” He patted Combeferre’s arm. “Not that I don’t like it when you’re being nerdy.”

Combeferre only smiled and dropped a kiss to the top of Courfeyrac’s head.

They were horrible and Enjolras frequently told them exactly that. But he did say it fondly. They were his two best friends after all and them getting together hadn’t changed a thing. Well, except for the early morning kitchen make-outs. And sometimes Courfeyrac came stumbling out of Combeferre’s room in the morning instead of his own. But Enjolras had got used to it and was grateful that they weren’t sleeping in Courfeyrac’s room that often since that one was right next to his.

“I told him to just wait for us inside if he gets here before us,” Courfeyrac said as he ushered Combeferre and Enjolras into the Musain.

Enjolras didn’t have much time to scan the café for his mystery date, because his eyes fell on library guy, who was sitting at a table in the back. So Enjolras wasn’t only going on a blind date tonight, no, the guy Enjolras hadn’t given his phone number to just because he’d happened to be a little annoyed was going to bear witness to it. That was just great.

Thinking about it now, Enjolras should have given his phone number to library guy. Because library guy was pretty cute and actually also helpful when he wasn’t busy being an annoying ass. Enjolras had often seen him help people out at the library when they hadn’t been able to reach the top of a shelf or when their copy cards hadn’t been working. And he obviously hadn’t been humming just to get on Enjolras nerves. To get his attention, maybe.

By the time Courfeyrac said, “Ah, yeah, he’s over there,” Enjolras had already promised himself that he’d give library guy his number the next time he saw him, since he doubted that tonight was going to go very well.

Courfeyrac took Enjolras by the hand and tugged him along, Combeferre following at their heels. And Courfeyrac was leading him to the back, which was weird, because there was only one person sitting there.

Library guy’s eyes steadily went wider as they approached and Enjolras was pretty sure that his own expression didn’t look that much different, although library guy quickly caught himself.

“Enjolras, this is Grantaire,” Courfeyrac said, pointing at library guy, “and Grantaire, this is Enjolras.”

Enjolras stared at him for a long moment, only snapping out of it when Combeferre gave him a nudge. “Um, hi, hello.”

“Hey,” Grantaire said, grinning broadly, “nice to meet you,” he added pointedly.

“Yes,” Enjolras grit out. He really couldn’t believe this. His initial thought was that this must be a joke, it just seemed like too much of a coincidence, but Grantaire seemed to actually have been surprised to see him and the way that Courfeyrac was talking to him, introducing Combeferre and asking Grantaire how he’d been, didn’t indicate that this was part of some elaborate plan.

“So, Enjolras,” Grantaire said, “what do you do? Are you a student?”

“I am,” Enjolras said, trying not to smile. He might as well play along. “What about you?”

Grantaire grinned. “What a coincidence, so am I. You know what, I think I might have seen you before.” He paused, nodding. “At the library maybe.”

“Enjolras does spend a lot of time at the library,” Combeferre said.

Courfeyrac laughed. “Yeah, I’m surprised that they haven’t asked him to pay rent yet.”

Enjolras pursed his lips, but didn’t contradict them. It was true. And Grantaire knew it, so there really was no point in denying it.

Once Enjolras had got over his initial surprise, he realized that Courfeyrac hadn’t promised too much. Grantaire was funny and smart and he was nice enough to let Enjolras have the rest of his fries. And he did have tattoos. Enjolras wasn’t proud of it, but his mouth might have actually gone dry when Grantaire rolled up his sleeves. When Grantaire noticed that Enjolras was staring, he let him have a closer look, pointing out some of them, telling him – and Combeferre and Courfeyrac, but mostly him, since Grantaire barely looked at the other two, Enjolras didn’t fail to notice – where and why he’d got them.

The second time this evening, Enjolras promised himself that he was going to give library guy his number.

They nearly got into an argument about the upcoming elections when Enjolras mentioned that he was a political science major, but Combeferre was quick to interrupt them, asking Grantaire how he’d got into fencing instead. They actually did get into an argument when they ordered dessert and Grantaire insisted that the Musain’s strawberry cake was better than the chocolate cake.

Combeferre and Courfeyrac only smirked at each other, which Enjolras chose to ignore in favor of presenting Grantaire with a comprehensive list of why his choice of cake was the better one.

Neither of them caved in the end, but Enjolras did try Grantaire’s cake when he offered and then let Grantaire try his in turn. Enjolras was going to have to rethink his stance on blind dates – although technically this wasn’t a blind date in the traditional sense. He’d already known Grantaire, in a way.

They stayed at the Musain for much longer than Enjolras had thought they would – well, he’d also thought that he wasn’t going to enjoy himself. When they left, Courfeyrac dragged Combeferre across the street to show him something in a shop window, leaving Enjolras with Grantaire.

“Well,” Grantaire said, “that was…”

“Nice,” Enjolras finished for him, smiling at the relieved look on Grantaire’s face. “Can I see your hand?”

“My hand?” Grantaire asked and held up his hand.

Enjolras nodded and reached for it, fishing a pen out of his bag. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” he said and wrote down his phone number on the back of Grantaire’s hand.

Grantaire grinned. “I’m glad you changed your mind,” he said, looking down at his hand. “I might actually get that tattooed.”

Enjolras snorted, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“How do you know that I’m kidding?” Grantaire asked. “Your handwriting is really neat.”

“Only when I try very hard,” Enjolras said.

“Well, thanks for this,” Grantaire said, waggling his fingers, “I’ll call you. And maybe I’ll see you on Monday?”

Enjolras nodded. “Quite possibly.”

“I’ll buy you lunch when you’re done with whatever you’re doing.”

Enjolras wrinkled his nose. He probably wouldn’t be able to finish his assignment before lunch, but he’d certainly make an effort. He did have a good reason after all.

“Or dinner instead?” Grantaire went on. “Although you should really take a lunch break, you know?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Enjolras said. Combeferre would be proud of him. “Pick me up at my usual table?”

Grantaire smirked. “I will.”


End file.
